Whispers
by kayleigh-amandamealing.co.uk
Summary: Holby City's medical director at Christmas. Characters belong to the BBC and lyrics taken from Tracey Chapman - Fast Car


She sat in her office, the blinds drawn, door closed, an eerie silence hung around her. The faint echo of Christmas carols floated up through the open window. The bitter cold filling the room as the tiniest of snowflakes drifted in. The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree down in the gardens lit up the room sporadically, lifting her spirits momentarily then dampening them as the room was plunged back into darkness.

The chimes from a nearby church indicated that it was approaching midnight, standing up and walking to the window, Connie looked out. The carollers were coming to the end of their song as she turned around and unhooked her jacket from the stand. Picking up her handbag and a small pile of files she walked out of the office, closing the door gently behind her. As she walked down the corridor, a few of the nurses wished her a Merry Christmas, she nodded back to them, not breaking her silence.

As she reached the main entrance she paused in her step. The hospital shop was closing for the night; a young woman in a tabard was dragging the boxes of Christmas decorations inside and drawing the shutters. She looked up and saw Connie looking back at her, she closed the shutters once and for all and pulled a long coat around her. Smiling she walked past Connie and outside into the biting cold.

Connie remained standing there, imagining where that young woman was headed. Off home to her loving family, husband, children, beautifully decorated tree surrounded by presents, warmth. She sighed to herself and walked outside, clutching her jacket close to her chest in a vain attempt to keep out the chill of the night air. As she neared her car she pushed the button on her key fob. Watching the yellow light of her lights flash in time with the lights of the Christmas tree she opened the boot of the car and dumped her bag and the files into it.

Climbing into the driver's seat she flicked on the radio. As she drove back to her home she listened to two radio presenters conducting the countdown to Christmas day and playing impossibly cheesy Christmas songs. The lyrics of King's Choir singing Ding Dong Merrily on High filled the car as she pulled out of the main road and into her street. Her mood lightened as she saw lights on in the window of her living room.

She climbed out of the car and looked in the direction of the window, she saw the dazzling light of the Christmas tree, decorated as ever in red and gold. She decided that this year the files could stay in the car along with work, she was going to enjoy Christmas for once. Turning her key in the door she walked into the hall and kicked off her shoes. She wandered through to the living room and the smell of mince pies and the scent of the tree surrounded her.

Standing in front of the tree she glanced up and down it. Michael had excelled himself this year, it looked spectacular. She dropped her coat onto the arm of the plush leather sofa and walked into the kitchen. Michael was facing the window, leaning on the worktop watching the snow fall.

She walked over to him, standing next to him. She smiled softly as she watched him, his eyes following the tiniest of snowflakes as they fell and landed on the window sill outside. He was entranced by the flakes, swirling around.

"The tree looks beautiful." She said quietly, not wanting to break his spell.

She turned around and walked towards the fridge, and pulled out a bottle of white wine. Reaching into the cupboard she carefully picked up two crystal champagne flutes and filled them with the wine. She picked up her own glass and took a slow sip, then walked back to where Michael stood and handed him the glass.

As she did her fingers brushed his and he looked up at his wife for the first time since she entered the kitchen. He smiled that politician's smile that could win anyone over. She watched him take a sip of the wine and go back to watching the snow fall. Finally he stood up straight and turned around, watching Connie wander around the open kitchen, straightening the candle on the large table, fiddling with the holly leaves in the wreath hanging on the door.

When every leaf was exactly how she wanted it she turned back around to face Michael, unaware that he had been studying her every move. She smiled and walked back over to the window, the snow now falling faster and heavier than before. She reached up and closed the window tightly, preserving the warmth of the house and dislodging the small snowdrift being created on the worktop.

"Sorry" she apologised quietly, sweeping the pile of snow gathered on the top, onto the floor, it melting slightly under her warm touch. She brushed the worktop, attempting to remove any remaining moisture from the marble surface. As she flicked the last water droplet onto the floor her hand caught Michael's. He held onto her slim fingers and pulled her towards to him, revelling in the closeness.

"No work this Christmas hey?" Michael asked quietly, slowly snaking his arms around her waist. She nodded back, trying to look confident in her decision. However she knew that at some point between Christmas and New Year she would undoubtedly end up in her office, or on the wards to escape the festivities. Moving closer to him she gently kissed his cheek.

Just as she did, the bells chimed 1 o'clock.

"Merry Christmas" she whispered in his ear.

She lay in bed, the covers surrounding her completely, a material barrier between her and the man sleeping not thirty centimetres to her left. Once again she heard the church bells chime, once, twice, three times. Quietly she swung her legs out of bed and stood up. Walking out of the tastefully decorated bedroom she grabbed at her silk dressing gown hanging on the back of the door.

Pulling it around her tiny frame she set off downstairs. As she reached the kitchen she heard the familiar sound of Michael moving upstairs, no doubt he had heard her get up and taken it upon himself to switch to his preferred side of the bed. She flicked a switch on the chrome kettle nestling in the corner of the worktop and pulled her mug out of the dishwasher. She silently willed the kettle to boil quietly as she heard the bubbles rising, getting louder and louder. Pressing the switch again she decided that lukewarm coffee was better than facing the wrath of Michael before his full 7 hours sleep was completed.

She turned on the CD player in the living room, the echoey sound of Tracey Chapman quietly playing made Connie feel tired, more lethargic than she had five minutes ago when she surfaced.

Invariably she would sit down, cradling the cup of lukewarm coffee in her lap, wrap the red tartan rug around her legs and sleep the rest of the night there. And in the morning Michael would creep downstairs, doing his best not to make any noise as he prepared his continental breakfast, then left for work.

But this was Christmas Eve, she was determined to make it back upstairs for once. Sipping the coffee she winced slightly, sweet, lukewarm wasn't the most desirable taste. She wandered into the living room once again, the lyrics floating around the room, haunting Connie as she sipped the coffee once again.

"You got a fast car And I got a job that pays all our bills You stay out drinking late at the bar See more of your friends than you do of your kids"

Connie looked out of the window, a wave of guilt washing over her. The snow was falling heavily once again and she stared out at the sweeping drive leading to her house. She loved the luxury of her house, but it was never her home. She craved the quiet and peace of her home when she was at work, but as soon as she arrived back she longed to be in the hustle and bustle of the wards. Her work was her life and that would never change.

"I'd always hoped for better Thought maybe together you and me would find it I got no plans I ain't going nowhere So take your fast car and keep on driving"

She knew she'd let Michael down all the times she told him she'd be home for dinner, she'd definitely be free for this charity ball or that dinner party. But she never was.

Draining the cup she placed it back into the sink, rinsing the ice cold water around it. The water splashed her wrist and sent a shiver rippling up her spine. The chill enveloped her body and she inwardly cursed, realising that this was the one morning when it would not be a good idea to wake up on the sofa.

She walked back up the stairs, her eyes not totally used to the darkness now facing her. Stumbling slightly as she misjudged the top step she pushed open the bedroom door and replaced her dressing gown onto the small silver hook it originally hung on.

She tiptoed around to the other side of the bed and slipped between the sheets as gently as she could, not wanting to wake her sleeping husband. His regular breaths comforted her as she inched closer to him, desperate to share his warmth for the whole night. She slipped her arm around his waist as she shifted in his sleep, rolling over to face her.

Smiling to herself in the dusky light she once again whispered, "Merry Christmas."

Christmas morning came and went without a hitch. They did the usual Christmas activities, opened the presents from under the tree, Connie laughing at the fact that their presents were exactly the same as every year. She had unwrapped a new watch, the updated version of her existing one, a silver photo frame to match the previous five years' photo frames and finally the faithful diamond ring. This year's was a variation on last year's however, set with two sapphires either side of the large sparkling diamond.

The steaming hot coffee Michael brought her as she sat looking out of the big bay window was a massive improvement on the previous night's effort. She sipped the coffee silently, thinking about this year's Christmas, surprised that they hadn't argued, clashed over who was going to do what as they usually did. Michael always wanted Connie to get more involved, to make an effort and stay away from work, to try and enjoy herself for once.

But she hated Christmas. Christmas was when families were happy together, a time for children and being together with people that you love. That was something Connie didn't have. As a little girl Connie loved the thrill of Christmas, all the attention lavished on her and her alone, the stack of presents under the tree she knew were just for her. She wished her life away, desperate to be old enough to do the same for her children, to recreate the magic for them. But she never got that chance.

Met the wrong man at the wrong time, she thought to herself, breaking away from gently blowing the coffee to look up at Michael. Seeing her looking up at him he flashed her a smile and walked back into the kitchen, no doubt to whip up the usual Christmas feast, his speciality. She couldn't ask for more in a husband, he was faithful, more than she could claim, and he loved her. But she was the only person he could love.

Standing up, she walked into the kitchen and placed her mug down on the side of the sink, not bothering, as she had hours earlier, to rinse it out. She walked upstairs and into the room she used as her office at home. The desktop computer sat dormant and her mobile phone was silent next to it. Picking up her pager she checked for messages. Seeing none she placed it back despondently. She wanted to be needed.

Tapping her nails on the phone as it lay in its cradle, she decided it wouldn't do any harm to check how things were going on the ward. It was Christmas Day, and she was the medical director after all. She continued to look at the phone, not daring to pick it up. Cursing herself for being so lame she picked up the phone and dialled the hospital, not even having to think about the numbers she punched in.

Lisa answered and assured Connie that everything was fine, the on-call surgeon had everything under control, that Connie should enjoy her Christmas and not think about work. She hung up and Connie remained stood in the study, holding the phone to her chest. Lisa sounded busy, hurried, maybe she wasn't coping as well as she could be, what if she just wanted to give her a good impression, make her believe she was in control?

Connie replaced the phone back into its holder and walked into the bedroom. She picked out a red shirt and a pair of smart black trousers. Running her fingers through her hair she ruffled the back slightly, roughly spiking it out in her usual style. Smiling at her reflection in the gilt edged mirror she smoothed down her trousers and bent down to pick up a pair of black stiletto heeled court shoes. Holding them between her first two fingers she quietly pulled the bedroom door to and padded down the stairs.

Slipping her shoes on as she neared the door, she grabbed her keys from the small table and left the house. Breaking into a slow run she unlocked the car and climbed in, starting the engine as she did. Seeing Michael open the door, she swung the car backwards, turning it around in the drive. She shrugged her shoulders apologetically and smiled sombrely. Driving past the front door she mouthed "sorry" to Michael and carried on out into the street.

She circled the Holby ring road more than once, lost in her own thoughts, when she finally snapped out of the trace and indicated left, pulling off the motorway and onto the familiar streets leading to the hospital, the autopilot taking over. When she pulled up in her usual parking space with no interruptions she switched off the engine and tried to remember the journey. She was so deep in thought she didn't notice Will Curtis, her registrar, peering in through the windscreen, a bemused look plastered over his face.

Getting out of the car she walked around to the other side of the car, grabbed her bag and slammed the passenger door shut. Walking over to where Will stood she grinned.

"Not at home with the wife and kids Mr Curtis?"

He grimaced, obviously unimpressed that he'd been called in.

"Ah well, merry Christmas Will" she whispered, before walking into the hospital.

She strode into the lift, pushing the button for floor 5 she then leant back on the side of the lift. Breathing out deeply she smiled to herself, the comforting bustle of the hospital surrounded her and she felt instantly calmed. The doors were about to close when a familiar figure dashed between them. Inwardly laughing she turned to face Will.

"Made it then" she quipped lightly. "Going up?" she asked, that saucy, yet innocent smile playing on her lips.

Will nodded as she pressed the button for the doors to close, ensuring they weren't going to be interrupted by anyone else running in. As she did that, she moved to the back of the lift where Will cowered. She leant back on the back of the lift wall and tilted her head towards Will.

"So what was your excuse then?"

He laughed uncomfortably. "Told Susan there was an emergency. Ben was tearing around the house and Izzy wouldn't stop crying. Even being at work was a more attractive option than facing the mother in law." Smiling guiltily, he looked Connie up and down. "So what about you? Surely you don't need to be here, you could have anyone you wanted in today."

A cold look ran across her face as she stopped smiling. "I'm the medical director, I should be here. And besides, someone needs to keep an eye on my registrar, you're obviously feeling unwell."

Will looked puzzled, "Why?"

"Because normally you can't wait to get away from the ward, and now you're here on Christmas Day." She said nonchalantly, still not taking her gaze away from the unopening steel doors of the lift. The silence held between them momentarily and then Connie looked up, her gaze unfaltering as she stared into Will's grey eyes. Her eyes softened as she saw him look back at her, their heads moving slightly closer. She smiled at him as the lift slowed and eventually drew to a halt as they maintained eye contact.

As the doors slid open her smile widened and she moved to step out of the lift, leaving Will slightly reeling from their closeness. She sauntered off down the corridor towards her office and as he finally stepped out of the lift he saw her spin on her heel and smile directly at him, her mouth slightly open as if she were about to say something but she didn't quite know what. He remained motionless for a second, watching her as she closed her mouth and turned back around and carried on into the depths of her office.

She wandered towards the window after throwing her jacket and her bag down onto the couch carelessly. Slipping her finger through the blinds shielding the outside world from her office, she peered out into the deserted gardens and car park. Everyone was at home, with their families, enjoying spending time together while they could. Not just snatched moments of pleasure in their offices, secret meetings, and guilty smiles.

As she sighed softly to herself still looking out of the window she heard faint footsteps outside her door. Turning around she saw Will hovering outside, not daring to disturb her as she looked deep in thought. As he saw her turn, he stepped over the threshold, looking slightly awkward as he entered her territory. He put a hand up to his tie and fiddled with it, straightening it and loosening it slightly as he felt the heat rise in his face as she looked him up and down.

"I… err… just…" he trailed off.

"Yes?" she asked inquisitively, smiling radiantly, not a hint of her usual sarcastic smirk as she answered him.

"Doesn't really matter now, I'll just…"

"How about a drink, celebrate the festive season…" she interrupted him briskly, turning back to her desk and grabbing the two crystal champagne flutes that sat there. Without waiting for an answer she uncorked the bottle and poured two generous glasses. Picking one up herself she held it up and gestured to Will that he do the same.

Chinking his glass gently she took a long sip of the champagne, savouring its sweet taste. She smiled to herself with satisfaction, loving the fact that her mere presence was making Will uncomfortable. Moving towards the door of her office, she pushed it shut, walking back to the other side of her desk, where Will stood. She placed herself directly in front of him, close enough that he could feel her breath on his neck, but not close enough to touch her.

A sexy smile washed across her face as she turned her head slightly to the side and took another sip of the champagne. Will watched her, entranced, desperate to be closer to her. He dipped his head slightly, his lips pursed. He went to kiss her gently but she moved her head to the side. Kissing his cheek very lightly she whispered in his ear, her breath tickling his neck once again.

"Merry Christmas" she whispered.

Five minutes later she sat close to him, reclining languorously on the couch, one hand gripping the stem of the crystal flute, the other laying lazily on Will's thigh as they laughed about what their other halves would be doing without them, the alcohol seeping into their bloodstreams making them relax. She leant forwards, laughing softly as he described in vivid detail all the toys Ben had unwrapped that morning.

"I loved Christmas as a child. Lived for Christmas morning." Her smile faded as she thought back to hours ago. "But it's not the same now, no fun without children." She took her hand off Will's thigh quickly, and held it in her lap. She took a long sip of the champagne, enjoying the warmth as it ran down her throat. Will noted her sudden movements and backed off. He shifted slightly and mirrored her position.

She shook her head sorrowfully. Will sipped his drink quietly, trying to fathom out what she was telling him, confused that she seemed to be revealing so much. He guessed it was just the combination of the alcohol and the festive season. Slipping his hand onto hers he reassured her silently.

"So why don't you go home?" he asked tentatively.

She gripped his hand. "Why don't we stay?"

She put down her glass on the desk to the side of the couch, then took his too, drained it wincing slightly then placing his glass next to her own. Still holding onto his hand she moved towards him, her eyes misting over as she gently brushed her lips against his. He stroked her fingers gently, still holding them as he kissed her back, tantalisingly softly, barely touching her lips, but close enough to her to feel her blush under his touch.

She pulled away as Will's kiss became stronger. The atmosphere suddenly changing, becoming chilly. She held her head against his chest, longing to feel his arms around her. As if he read her mind, Will crept an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. He felt her shiver and sigh deeply, expelling all the bad feeling inside her. The proximity she felt to him made her feel complete again, like she was both wanted and needed.

Eventually he felt the shivering stop as she relaxed into their embrace. Listening to the sound of her breathing he looked out of the window, desperately trying to remember the last time he felt this close to Susan. Connie closed her eyes, sincerely hoping that no-one walked into her office at this particular time. She didn't really want her slight breakdown to be hospital gossip. She looked up at Will, his face emotionless as he looked out of the window.

"You won't… say anything about this will you?" she questioned him.

He shook his head solemnly, still not removing his gaze from her window. Breaking away, he glanced down at her. She looked impossibly vulnerable, her head resting on his chest. Was she thinking the same as he had been moments ago?

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, Connie and Will sprung apart. She stood up quickly and moved to the other side of the desk, leaving Will sat on the couch.

"Come in" she called to whoever loitered outside.

Ric entered the room, looking from Connie to Will, surveying the situation as he found it. He grinned, having obviously interrupted some meeting between the two, the guilty looks giving away their secret.

"I'd err… better be getting back onto the ward" Will stammered. "I'll see you later Connie."

Connie smiled what she hoped was a genuine looking smile, disappointed that Ric had come between them. Watching Will make his speedy exit, she turned her attention to Ric who was now stood beside her. She tilted her head slightly, a blank expression plastered onto her face. She wandered over to the doorway, the door left slightly ajar, hiding the mistletoe that one of the nurses, no doubt Donna, had hung outside her door.

"And what can I be doing for you on Christmas Day, Mr Griffin? Shouldn't you be opening presents with one of the children?" she joked smarmily.

"Could say the same about you Mrs Beauchamp" he grimaced. Sensing the stony glare intensifying he retraced his steps hastily. "I mean, it's a shame we're both stuck in work on such a joyous occasion. Just wondered if you fancy a drink, celebrate the day…"

She shook her head. Moving towards the doorway, she flashed him one of her winning smiles. "Not today I don't think."

Ric shrugged nonchalantly, moving back towards the door. He glanced up at the mistletoe, raising an eyebrow as Connie also noticed it. She too raised an eyebrow as he bent his head to kiss her. Looking into his dark eyes she saw the passion burning there. As he kissed her lingeringly she realised where she should be.

Breaking away and moving to pick up her coat and bag up off the couch she walked back to the doorway, lightly kissing Ric's cheek she smiled and turned to walk down the corridor towards the lift.

"Merry Christmas" she whispered into the silence.


End file.
